


Crafting the Perfect Romance

by LibbyWeasley



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Authors AU, Eventual Smut, F/M, rivals au, romance writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/pseuds/LibbyWeasley
Summary: Romance author Jemma Simmons has met her match with Lance Hunter. But even though she finds his books implausible and poorly researched, there might be something about the man himself that she finds very satisfying.
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 79
Kudos: 23
Collections: AOS AU August 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Florchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/gifts).



> Thanks to the wonderful @agentofship for her help with this one and to @bobbimorseisbisexual for the idea.
> 
> Written for day 1 of @aosficnet2 AU August for the prompt rivals AU (prompted by @florchis)

_JSimms89: Today’s the day! Jemma Simmons’ new book is hands-down the best she’s ever written._

_Sexygurl: Might be her best book...but she’s got nothing on Lance Hunter. I swear I almost got pregnant just from looking at his author photo._

Jemma sipped a cup of tea as she watched the sun come up over the city. It was her favorite time of day, the streets were quiet and it was perfectly acceptable for her to still be in her robe and fuzzy slippers. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment. Too soon, the day would become bright...and she’d be faced with the reviews of her latest book. Her loyal fans seemed to read anything she published. She’d tried her hand at medical romance, romantic suspense, and, of course, her signature subgenre -- contemporary romance. It might not be literature, but what her mum didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

After she’d moved to New York to complete her MFA, she’d been careful to never tell her mum what exactly she wrote. She described her writing process -- precise, ordered, scheduled -- her contract, her work with her agent and best friend, but she’d managed to keep the rest of the details to herself. That was probably only due to the fact that she’d managed not to go home for the holidays the past five years. But her mum hadn’t wanted her to move so far from home, and turning to writing romance after earning a PhD in biochemistry would seem like failure if she tried to explain it to her mother.

It wasn’t that Jemma was ashamed of her writing. On the contrary, she was actually very proud of it. She’d managed to capture the exact type of life she’d like to have and repackage it in fiction. Every book featured a strong, professional woman who had a fulfilling sex life. Marriage optional. It was the exact opposite from the normal trash that filled the romance genre. 

Jemma hated to judge others, but some of the other authors that had been picked up by her publisher had clearly never had a successful relationship in their lives. No matter though. Today was her day. A book hitting the shelves, and the next book halfway completed. Perfectly on schedule, everything running like clockwork. Just the way she liked it.

Once the sun had cleared the buildings, Jemma turned her thoughts back to the job at hand. She had another chapter to finish before she was scheduled to meet with Daisy. The obvious benefit of having her best friend as her agent, particularly a best friend who was married to her publisher, was that she got all the news before anyone else did. Quite a benefit in her line of work, where trends and readership could change at the drop of a hat.

After showering and getting dressed, Jemma settled herself at the small desk facing the window. The plants she had on her balcony provided just the right amount of nature without proving to be a distraction. She booted up her laptop and checked her planner. The colored tabs indicated that she was to do edits on chapter 3 and then finish writing chapter 6. She’d left the rest of this chapter until the morning so she could look at it with fresh eyes. The steamier sections of the writing process were the most difficult for her. Plotting and outlining -- fine. Dialogue -- no problem. But when it came to describing in enough detail for her readers exactly what body part was where...that’s when she was glad she had Daisy to bounce ideas off.

She sketched a quick diagram as she read through her draft. If his hand was there, then that meant…

Jemma turned her head to the side, trying to figure out if it was impossible, or just extremely unlikely, that her hero would be able to satisfy the heroine from that angle when her phone pinged. Saved by the bell.

That was probably Daisy with the first update of her sales. She’d had a sizeable first printing now that she was established as an author, but it was always a little nerve-wracking to actually see the sales numbers -- and that was where her income came from. The royalties kept her going long after the advance on the book was spent on food and rent. As long as online sales were strong, she had nothing to worry about. 

She picked up her phone and swiped at the notification, anxious to see Daisy’s assessment. Instead she was faced with an image of Lance Hunter. He had a slightly scruffy, unkempt look to him, and a way of smiling at the camera that always made her feel like he was being unnecessarily smug. And in person he was even worse.

They’d been picked up by SHIELD Books at about the same time, and at first Jemma had been pleased to know that there was another new writer to bond with. But then she’d read his first book. It was a wildly inaccurate historical romance, with an entirely too alpha male as the hero, and a completely helpless -- both in her life and in her lover’s bed -- damsel in distress cast as the heroine. Jemma knew that _some_ women found that type of story appealing, and she tried not to judge, but that just wasn’t for her. She saw Hunter from time to time, but they tended not to exchange more than a few words. They’d both risen to the top of the romance genre -- sometimes she would outsell him and sometimes the reverse -- so it appeared that she was stuck with him, for the time being at least, no matter how irritating he was.

She scrolled through the posting and realized it had come from the fansite she followed. She had been ever so pleased to find out she had fans who had formed a sort of fan club where they discussed her books and analyzed her characters’ motivations. It was incredibly useful as a writer to know how her words were interpreted.

But today it seemed that some of her fans were also very interested in Hunter’s new book. Some sort of bodice ripper from the look of that cover. His new book, _The Duke’s Captive Lover_ , had just dropped today as well.

Lovely.

Hopefully when she met Daisy for drinks later she’d hear about how his book was a dud. It would serve him right for using fiction to play out his fantasies. She couldn’t believe people actually read his books. They were getting sadly misled about just how many times a woman could orgasm, no matter how good he was with his hands and his tongue. Or, his characters rather. Not him. She had no idea what Lance Hunter could or could not do with his tongue.

She only read his books to get a handle on what readers were interested in. Which reminded her, she needed to ask Daisy if she could get her a copy of Hunter’s new book. She didn’t want to inflate his sales numbers by buying one. She studied the cover image for a few seconds more, before closing the browser and turning back to her work. 

Concentration completely broken, she let her thoughts wander. She found it easier to let her mind travel whatever paths it wanted to before bringing it back to focus. That way she wouldn’t distract herself later with lingering thoughts. But for some reason she couldn’t get her mind off Hunter. Even though she’d analyzed the problem before, she couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of her dislike for him. There were other writers that had similar styles and they didn’t bother her nearly as much. It could be the fact that they seemed to be competing for the same readers...no matter how different their writing was. 

But she suspected it was his name. As far as pseudonyms went, it was unnecessarily suggestive. _Lance_ , for goodness sake. It wasn’t much of a stretch to figure out what that meant. He probably had a perfectly boring name. Like John or something. 

But at the same time she couldn’t quite imagine that either.

* * *

Jemma tugged at her skirt as she scanned the bar. Her hair was curled and her makeup carefully applied. Hopefully that was enough to mask her irritation. After the interruption this morning, she’d never gotten back on track. The rest of the chapter was written, but she’d likely have to rewrite it once her head was clear again. It was difficult to write a sex scene while her mind was unfocused. Damn Lance Hunter for distracting her from her work. She shouldn’t have let him get to her like that. 

Daisy waved from her perch at the bar and Jemma nodded before heading over, weaving between tables to reach her friend.

“Hey Jemma! How’s my favorite writer?”

“I’m fine, Daisy. And you’re an agent. You tell everyone they’re your favorite writer.”

“Yeah, but when I say it to you I actually mean it.” 

Daisy waved over the bartender so Jemma could order, and once she had a drink in her hand, Jemma turned back to Daisy. 

“So, what’s the news?”

The smile on her face gave her away, but Jemma waited for the words anyway. “With your pre-orders and all the buzz on this book, I’d say this is going to be your best seller yet.”

“It looked like there were some positive reviews.” Jemma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to keep her voice even. She was supposed to be a professional and she liked to convey that in her tone, but inside her excitement was boiling over. This might be the book that solidified her standing at SHIELD Books. She had more ideas for characters she wanted to explore and with a little more negotiating power she’d be able to pitch them to her editor. 

“It was a great day for SHIELD Books. Daniel is ecstatic.”

Jemma took a sip of her gin and tonic to hide her grin. “I’m glad I could make him happy.”

“Yeah. You...and Hunter.”

“Hunter?” Her lips screwed up in a scowl. “What about him?”

“Oh, you know, he had a book drop today.” Daisy shot her a look and Jemma tried to avoid her stare. “What’s your problem with him anyway? You’ve never really explained.”

“He’s...well, he’s… Honestly, his plots are a little simplistic and unbelievable.”

Daisy snorted. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It just means that you don’t talk about any of the other authors as much as you talk about him. That’s all.” Daisy held up her hands in surrender, and Jemma cast around for a way to change the subject. 

“Oh! What was the news you wanted to share?”

Daisy swallowed a gulp of her frozen daiquiri.

“Well, the shortlist for the Sexy Star Romance awards is being announced tomorrow.” Daisy leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “And word is you’re on that list.”

Jemma let out a very unprofessional squeal, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean, that’s great news. I’d love to win an SSR, even though it’s the stupidest name for an award that I’ve ever heard of. Exactly how sure are you? Oh. Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

Jemma slammed her mouth shut again as Daisy started laughing. “Yeah. I’m 100% sure, girl. And I’d say you have a good chance too.”

The alcohol lent her confidence and Jemma started mentally drafting her acceptance speech. It was a reasonably prestigious award within the genre and it wouldn’t do to make a bad impression on the authors, editors, and publishers in attendance at the awards ceremony.

“Actually...I’d guess it will probably come down to you and Hunter.”

Daisy was watching her carefully, probably looking for a reaction she could read something into, so Jemma took another sip of her drink. The alcohol had a little burn, but it made her feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. His newest book is —“ Daisy fanned herself and Jemma rolled her eyes. “What? It _is_. If you’d read it, you wouldn’t be rolling your eyes. I don’t know how he does it, but he seems to know exactly what women want.”

Jemma rolled her eyes harder, if such a thing was possible, before caving. 

“Fine. Do you have a copy? I don’t want to waste my money on that drivel.”

Daisy reached into her bag and pulled out a review copy of Hunter’s book. Just as well. Now she wouldn’t have his author photo staring at her from the back cover. 

“Maybe you’ll get some ideas from his book,” Daisy said, with a smug sort of smile Jemma didn’t understand. 

She straightened. “I would never steal ideas from another author. _Especially_ from Lance Hunter.”

“Calm down, girl. I just meant that if you’re worried about how the romantic part of your book comes across, then you couldn’t go wrong taking some pointers from Hunter. Sex sells. And he certainly seems to know his way about the bedroom if you ask me.”

Daisy was purposely trying to rile her up. Jemma could see that now. 

“Oh, don’t tease. I spent all day stuck on my chapter. If it was as simple as just emulating his work, I’d do it. But the characters’ personalities and motivations are so important to how they —“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. As your agent, I love how you talk about writing. It gives your fans so much insight into you and your process. But as your friend...I have to say drop the BS.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look...I’m a happily married woman.” Daisy waved her hand, the large diamond on her fourth finger glinting in the light. “But if I wasn’t, I’d definitely get Hunter to teach me his secrets.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Jemma shot back.

“You’re right. I probably wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Now tell me where you’re stuck on this chapter.”

The conversation drifted into Jemma’s next book and by the time she left the bar she felt much better. 

Jemma knew Daisy was just teasing, but it took more time and alcohol than she’d care to admit to shake the idea of asking Hunter for sex tips loose from her head once Daisy had planted it there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma does a book signing and has the misfortune of running into Lance Hunter who happens to be there as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @agentofship for all of her help!

_RomanceReadr: Have you tried the position on page 167?? Jemma is a genius!_

_Sexgod69: not yet but I’m available to experiment...if you know what I mean_

_RomanceReadr: Everyone know what you mean, you perv._

The exhibit hall in the convention center was practically full to bursting. People swarmed everywhere and there was a dull roar of conversation everywhere she turned. Jemma consulted the pocket-sized map one more time, looking for the booth where she was scheduled to do her book signing. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling a deep, calming breath. Being an author could be incredibly stressful from time to time, but it wasn’t like she had to do this every day. Most of her days were spent in her nice quiet flat where she could follow her own schedule. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy interacting with her fans. She certainly answered emails and engaged on social media with her readers, but at a book signing like this it always seemed like they were just one step away from chaos.

Agreeing to let Daisy choose her outfit for the signing may have been a slight miscalculation. She’d just wanted Daisy to stop hassling her about her lack of a social life — wasn’t Sunday brunch with Daisy and Daniel enough? — and instead she’d ended up with sexy lingerie under a crisp white blouse, pink blazer, and pink dress skirt that was entirely too short. Daisy had really dug deep in Jemma’s closet for that ensemble. 

But at least her new third date bra and knickers set was getting some play. It wasn’t like she’d need it anytime soon with the way her recent dates had been going.

Feeling centered again, she tugged at her skirt to see if there was any way it could be just a bit longer, and nearly lost her balance as a woman knocked into her as she attempted to control an oversized bag. 

“Oh, excuse me, dearie! Didn’t think I was that close. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” The woman’s voice was kind, concern evident, and Jemma smiled. She looked to be about middle-aged, her sweater tied around her waist, with a stack of books clutched in her arms.

“That’s okay. I’m quite alright.” She would have dismissed the apology regardless, but she found she really meant it. The smile on her face was genuine and she was almost glad the woman had bumped into her. 

“I’m so glad —“

Her voice drifted off and Jemma started feeling a little self-conscious. She supposed she could just walk away. She probably should since she was cutting it to close on time anyway. Her signing started in 20 minutes. 

“You’re...you’re Jemma Simmons!”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m here for your signing. Drove in this morning just to see you!”

Jemma thought that was unlikely given the sheer number of books the woman seemed to be carrying around. But it was still a nice sentiment. 

“Oh, that’s lovely!” She smiled, deciding there was no time like the present to slip into her professional author persona. It was a lot like her regular personality, just a bit more outgoing. She’d spent one anxiety-filled night before her first book signing creating an entire backstory to account for her changed behavior. Luckily Daisy had only laughed when she’d told her about it and never mentioned it again. “I was actually about to head over to the booth.”

Jemma let her gaze move towards the exhibit floor, hoping the woman would get the message. 

“Of course you are. I better let you go.”

“It was lovely to meet you. I guess I’ll see you in a bit.”

The woman placed a hand on Jemma’s arm and gave it a little squeeze. “I’ll be right over to your signing. I just have to stop at one more booth first.”

She shifted her arms to show Jemma the cover of the book on top. A very familiar cover with the image of a scantily clad woman in some very inaccurate historical dress. 

“Hunter’s here?” The question burst out much louder than Jemma had intended. Not that she’d intended to ask it at all. 

“Oh, of course, dear. He’s always at these things.” She leaned closer and gave Jemma a conspiratorial wink. “I always make a special effort to see him. He’s such a delightful flirt. But of course you know that.”

Jemma’s mind had completely left the exhibit hall and was doing its own impression of orbiting around the sun. Hunter. Hunter was here. Of course he was here. He was a bestselling romance author. He’d never miss an opportunity to meet his adoring fans. His adoring female fans. 

Somehow her feet took her to the booth where she was doing her signing. She couldn’t believe Daisy hadn’t told her he’d be here. Actually she could believe it. She wasn’t crazy about book signings on a good day and if she’d known _he_ would be here she’d probably have given an excuse. No matter how nicely Daniel had asked. To think she’d been swayed by the temptation of a night away from home in a posh hotel. Now it just meant she was too far from home to leave before her flight in the morning. 

She was at her booth, sharpie pen in hand, ready to start signing when she finally dared to look around. They wrote for the same publisher, so logically she knew he must be close by, but she didn’t want it to look like she was looking. 

“Ms. Simmons?”

Her attention jerked back to the woman in front of her. “Oh, I’m so sorry...” She looked down at the sticky note on the front of the book. “Amanda.”

She opened the book to the title page and slipped a piece of paper behind it so the marker didn’t bleed through, hand hovering over the page before she wrote a neat inscription and signed her name with a flourish. 

“I hope you enjoy it,” she said with a smile, handing the book back. 

“Nice to see you again!” The woman who’d bumped into her earlier was in front of her, a book extended.

“How are you enjoying the exhibits?” she asked, opening the book so she could sign it.

“I just had the most wonderful conversation with Lance Hunter. I think he was coming on to me.”

Jemma looked up sharply, inexplicably certain that the older woman wasn’t Hunter’s type at all. Not that she could say why she thought that. 

But then she noticed the gleam in the other woman’s eye.

“Oh, I know he’s a shameless flirt. But I did find out he’s single. I’m sure he’d make any woman very happy. And that’s without ever leaving the bedroom,” she said with a laugh. 

Jemma signed her name quickly, trying to ignore the extra blot of ink that had formed in her haste. She gave the woman a tight smile. Why was everyone so interested in what Hunter did in bed. Just because he wrote sex scenes for his characters like he was a porn star, that didn’t mean he was any good in bed. In fact, she was certain he was overcompensating. Probably a virgin. That uncharitable thought made her smile, but then she quickly dismissed it. There was no way he was a virgin. Not with that sinful smile. 

“I’m certain you’re right,” she agreed, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation, finish her book signing, and get a large glass of something very alcoholic at the hotel bar before spending a blissful night tucked into a bed with 1,000 count sheets. She deserved something for her mental anguish, at least.

* * *

Two hours later she slid onto one of the empty barstools and signaled to the bartender. 

“A glass of white wine, please.”

The further she’d gotten from the convention center, the more her need to drown her sorrows had faded. Now, she’d be satisfied with something to just relax her a little bit before going to sleep.

She took a sip, the sweetness on her tongue and the promise of alcohol in her bloodstream making the rest of the day look far more promising than what had happened thus far. 

Jemma carefully crossed her legs, the easy slide of her stockings making her feel a bit more naughty than Daisy had probably intended when she’d suggested them. Or maybe not. Daisy rarely did things without a reason. She took another sip and glanced around the bar. A little bit of company wouldn’t go unappreciated right now. She hadn't realized it until she purposely tried to relax, but she felt awfully tense. Maybe she’d been working too hard. It wouldn’t be the first time she hadn’t known her own limits.

But that would mean accepting that Daisy was right. And she wasn’t about to do that. Maybe she just needed to release some of her stress.

Her eyes fell on a man across the bar. Even from a distance she could tell he must work out, nicely shaped biceps peaking out from the short sleeves of his fitted shirt. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He looked just like she’d always imagined the hero in her latest book. The idea sent a little tingle through her. Literally bringing her fantasies to life held an appeal she hadn’t anticipated. He looked up and gave her a smile. 

And then a blonde sat down beside him and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

That was...fine. Probably a bad idea to have a one-night stand with someone who looked like a book character anyway. It would only give her unreasonable expectations. Which was something she should really warn her readers about. Far too many of the (mostly) women who she’d spoken to today had discussed her characters as if they were real, live people and not the fictional representations they were. 

But that was a problem for another day. 

She smoothed down her skirt and uncrossed her legs, shifting on the stool so she could cross them again the other way. As she was examining the other side of the bar with a critical eye, her phone buzzed and she slipped it out of the side pocket of her purse.

Daisy: How did the signing go? 

Jemma smiled. Daisy was predictable at least. 

Jemma: Perfectly fine. Thank you.

Daisy: Any hot guys?

Jemma: Not that I noticed. 

Daisy: That’s weird 

Jemma: Why? What’s weird? 

There was no answer, so Jemma took another sip of her drink, feeling a little fidgety after her long day.

Jemma: You know as well as I do that 84% of romance readers are women.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, so Jemma waited for Daisy’s response.

Daisy: I didn’t know the specific number, but thanks for that, you dork

Daisy: I meant Hunter. I know he’s there.

Jemma rolled her eyes. She didn’t know where Daisy got the idea that she found Hunter attractive. Sure, he was clearly in good shape, with nice symmetry, the little bit of scruff on his face made her wonder what it would feel like on her skin, and his smile…

Daisy: ???

She shook her head, deciding not to dignify Daisy’s comment with a response.

Daisy: Fine. Ignore me. 

Daisy: Daniel’s pissed at you btw

Jemma almost choked on her wine, coughing as she started typing again. 

Jemma: What? Why?

Daisy: I knew that would get your attention

Daisy: page 167? He says that’s his thing

Jemma: It’s missionary. I don’t think he owns it.

Daisy: Yeah, but that’s his special thing

Jemma: You can’t see me, but I’m rolling my eyes. 

She looked up as the bartender asked her if she wanted another glass. She hadn’t even noticed hers was empty, so she nodded. 

“Yes, please. Just one more.”

Jemma: He’s married. Tell him he shouldn’t be using his special thing on anyone but you. 

Daisy: Jemma! Are you drunk?

Daisy: You normally read your texts closer before you hit send

Jemma: You’re the one who told me about it. If you didn’t want it in the book, you should have said so.

Jemma: ...and it was just one glass of wine.

Daisy: I’m just joking. Don’t worry. 

Daisy: Oh! Gotta go. Daniel has something to show me.

Daisy: and it’s not that!!!

Jemma: I didn’t say anything. :P

Daisy: Have a good night! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Jemma: Goodnight! I’ll see you tomorrow!

Jemma stared down at the phone in her hand, but there were no more messages. The half-filled glass in front of her felt less appealing now that she was alone again, even the little bit of a connection from the text messages gone.

It wasn’t that she was lonely. Being alone had never bothered her. It was more the sneaking suspicion that she was missing out on something. Ever since Daisy and Daniel had gotten married — or since they’d started dating really — things had been different. 

She didn’t think she was jealous. She didn’t want Daniel specifically. Not that there was anything wrong with him. He was solid. Dependable. Exactly what Daisy needed. 

But Jemma needed something else. Something more exciting. 

It was clearly time to grab dinner and get to her room before she got all weepy at the bar. Or maybe order room service. That would be suitably indulgent. 

Mind made up she caught the bartender’s eye, intending to close her tab, when a voice beside her made her freeze. 

“This seat taken?”

She turned to face him, nearly sliding from the barstool. 

Hunter. Lance Hunter and his stupid, sexy smile. Wait...that wasn’t right. Stupid, smug smile.

As she sat there staring at him his smile seemed to get even wider, and a little too knowing. Focusing her breathing, she managed to get a few words out.

“No. All yours.”

“Good to know.” 

His voice was low and it sent little tingles through her. Little tingles of irritation, that is. But whatever it was, it wasn’t like she’d be spending any time with him. 

So she had nothing to worry about.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting at the bar leads to a night full of possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Real life has been the worst! The good news is that I have the next chapter already written so that one will be up faster.
> 
> A very big thank you to @agentofship for all her help <3

_JSimms89: I met Jemma Simmons AND I got an autographed copy of her book <3 <3 <3 <3_

_Sexygurl: So did I!!! Can’t wait for her next book though. I heard it’s supposed to be super steamy._

_Sexgod69: As steamy as Hunter’s? (still looking for someone to try that position with me, btw)_

_RomanceReadr: Steamier. And the answer is still no. :)_

Hunter slid onto the stool next to her, flashing her a grin. 

“I thought I’d find you here.”

“Did you? Why’s that?”

Hunter always set her a little on edge. But here, with him so close, it was a little harder to be sure it had to do with his writing. 

He gave her a look that made her feel like she’d missed something important. And she hated that feeling. 

“Because you had a book signing today? And this is the conference hotel.”

“Oh.” There was a weird little flutter in her stomach. Hopefully she wasn’t coming down with something. That would make the flight home miserable. “Of course. How did your signing go?”

“No complaints. My hand is a little sore though.”

“You aren’t used to using your hand?” Jemma always made sure to do some of her writing by hand. There was just something more pure about it that way. 

“I don’t usually discuss that until at least the second date. But for you I could make an exception.”

“What do you — Oh! I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant —“

“I know what you meant, love.”

The bartender had finally circled back, but before Jemma could pay her tab, Hunter ordered. “Another drink for the lady. And I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

Jemma raised her eyebrows, not sure if she should be offended by how he’d swept in and ordered her a drink...or a little bit impressed. There was something about it that brought to mind one of the heroes in his books. The very alpha male heroes in his books.

“I can order for myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But I bet you would have left instead of talking to me and now I get to enjoy the pleasure of your company for as long as it takes you to finish a glass of wine.”

“And will it be?”

He gave her a confused look. 

“A pleasure?”

“I hope so.”

“Ugh. Why do you have to be _like that_?” Jemma was flustered and she hated being flustered, especially in front of him. 

“Like what?” The bartender deposited two glasses of wine in front of them and Hunter took a sip.

“Like _him_. Lance Hunter. Your...your writing persona. It’s a little obvious don’t you think? I mean, Lance is awfully suggestive even for a romance author. Especially the kind of romance you write.”

He smiled as she shifted on the barstool, trying to get more comfortable. It wasn’t her fault her skirt was so short. She’d definitely be having words with Daisy later.

“My writing persona? I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but Lance Hunter is my real name. If you have a problem with it, I can get you my mother’s number. I’m sure she’d be happy to explain the significance to you.”

Jemma bit her lip, the apology she knew she should give right there on the tip of her tongue. But the look he was giving her made it a little hard to breathe, let alone formulate words.

“And what do you mean _the kind of romance I write_?”

“No one can orgasm that many times.”

“Is that a fact?” he shot back at her before she’d even realized she’d spoken. Oh, bloody hell. She shouldn’t have stayed for another drink. “Maybe you just haven’t had good sex.”

Jemma let out a decidedly unprofessional snort and almost tumbled off her barstool as she tried to turn away. She wasn’t about to discuss her sex life with him. But he’d seen her sway and his hand shot out to catch her. Somehow she righted herself and his hand rested on her thigh with nowhere else to go. His very warm hand on her nearly bare thigh. A little bolt of heat raced straight to her center. It must be all the wine making her fuzzy.

“You alright?” His voice was softer. Almost like he was concerned about her. It was a nice feeling. Which was silly considering they hardly knew each other.

“Yes, of course.” Her eyes were fixed on his hand, which he still hadn’t moved. “You don’t need to…”

As she spoke he removed his hand, letting his fingertips drag over her stocking-covered thigh. A shiver raced down her spine and she reached for her wine glass so she’d have a minute to think.

“I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way. It’s just...I’ve read your books, and your sex scenes are a little clinical sometimes.”

“You’ve read my books?”

“Yeah. Know your enemy and all that. Haven’t you read mine?”

Jemma blushed, thinking about the part of his last book that had kept her up late at night. “Of course. But not because I enjoy that sort of thing, just because I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.”

“And was it worth it?”

“Well, like I said, it’s a bit unlikely isn’t it?”

“Unlikely? Maybe. Possible? Definitely.” He seemed awfully sure of himself. She wondered if he was compensating for something or if he really knew as much about sex as he claimed. “There is an audience. A very large audience for the type of books I write.”

“Really, Hunter?” Now that she knew it was his real name she couldn’t believe she’d ever thought it was some sort of pen name. It just fit him so well. “You must read the fansite forums just like I do. You know you’re only as popular as you are because all the suburban housewives think you’re hot.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“That’s not what I said!” She swallowed and reached for her wine glass, only to be disappointed to find that it was empty. “I said some people may find you attractive, and that’s why they buy your books. I mean, that picture you use for your author photo --”

She wasn’t even sure what she’d been about to say after that lead-in. Obviously she wasn’t about to tell him she thought his author photo was practically sinful, with the way he was looking right into the camera like he could see into her soul. 

“What about that picture? I had sent in some others, but that was the one Daniel insisted on. I got the impression Daisy made him do it.”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “That isn’t surprising at all.”

“Oh, yeah? You think she’s got the hots for me too?” He was teasing. She could tell that. But that didn’t stop her from needing to set him straight on that count.

“No, of course not. Daisy is _happily_ married and a sexy photo isn’t going to change that.”

“I’m not interested in married women -- happily or otherwise.”

He was looking at her now, and she had no idea what it all meant. Did it mean that he was rubbing it in her face that people liked the kind of romance he was selling? Or did he mean something else? Something more personal. That was a question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. 

Casting around for another topic, she said, “I like my books to be realistic. They should give the reader an accurate depiction of modern romance. It isn’t all multiple orgasms and ripping off each other’s clothes.”

Unfairly, the image of him with his head between her thighs filled her thoughts, and she had a moment’s hesitation. She’d always wanted to give her readers a touch of reality along with the fantasy, but maybe the fantasy was worth it.

‘Oh, come on, Jemma. Is it romance or sex ed manual?”

“Just because it’s realistic, it doesn’t mean it’s bad.” She glared at him, but all he did was laugh, and she lost any bit of irritation she’d had to begin with. “Romance isn’t always easy, and there are plenty of readers who appreciate characters who experience the same challenges they do.”

“And sometimes they just want a fantasy to help them escape from the unpleasant realities of their own lives.”

“And you fulfill their fantasies?” She could have kicked herself for asking the question, but she really did want to know. She wanted to know if he could fulfill some of her fantasies. Obviously it would be a fling. If she was even thinking about this seriously at all. But they were two adults. They had hotel rooms. And it seemed like he was flirting with her.

“I try.” He was close now. “And If I don’t completely satisfy, then I keep trying.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she breathed out. Obviously all the double entendres were getting to her. There probably wasn’t anything between them at all. Other than a professional rivalry of course.

“For the record, I do my research.”

He gave her a look and deliberately took another sip of wine.

She tilted her head, brow furrowing. She’d read his books. There wasn’t anything historically accurate about them. If that was him doing his research, then she wasn’t sure she believed him about his skills in the bedroom either. 

“I’ve read your books, remember,” she said. “I’m not an expert in history, but I doubt there is much historical accuracy in your books.”

“Oh, I didn’t say the history was accurate. Just that I do my research.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Every position, every scenario, every _unlikely_ orgasm as you called them, have all been tested and approved.” He gave her that smile again. The one that made her afraid she was about to melt into a puddle of goo at his feet. “And they all deliver complete satisfaction. I wouldn’t want my readers to be disappointed by any...inaccuracies.”

Oh! He was infuriating! The thought of having sex and then writing about it! Well, it was practically unethical.

“And I’m sure you have a string of groupies willing to do all of this research with you?” Anger flashed, for the moment at least drowning out the building lust.

“Well, no. My wife...” Jemma felt her eyes go wide. “Ex-wife, I mean, was very adventurous. But now that she’s remarried that’s not an option.”

“Huh...I can’t believe she’d leave you after all of those magical orgasms.” 

“Who says she left me? Plus, you should know, Jemma, that relationships are about more than sex. If you’d like an example you could try reading some of my books.”

Jemma laughed. She was done for. He was unfairly attractive, smart, funny, and he had very promising things to say about his performance in the bedroom. Where was Daisy when she needed an interruption to bring back a moment of sanity? But it was pointless now.

“I’m glad you’re laughing. You were making me a bit worried earlier.”

“Why? Because I didn’t immediately succumb to your charm?”

“No. Because you seemed a little stressed.” There it was again. That little bit of concern, like she mattered to him in some way. “Because you definitely succumbed right away. As soon as you saw me, actually.”

“Is that so?”

At some point in their conversation their entire body language had changed, and now they were facing each other, their knees almost touching, and Jemma carefully uncrossed and recrossed her legs the other way. To get more comfortable, of course, but also to see if she still felt that spark when her leg brushed his.

She did.

She leaned closer, keeping her eyes on his. This all felt so right that part of her wanted to grab her notebook and take a few notes about the way they looked into each other’s eyes and how the other conversations in the room faded to nothing as he closed the gap between them. There was no gentle eyes-dropping-to-her-lips moment, just fire as their lips met and hers immediately parted for his tongue while his hand on her knee held her in place.

There was nothing cautious about their first kiss. As a romance author maybe she should know more than a thing or two about kisses, but this was enlightening. She didn’t know she could feel so much from such a slight pressure. He made no move to touch her or demand anything more, but she wanted to give him anything...everything.

She couldn’t get any closer to him, lest she risk falling off the stool, but she covered his hand with hers and slid it up her thigh. There was something incredibly erotic about her guiding his hand over her, his touch burning her skin like a brand. His hand moved higher, up under her skirt, his motion concealed by the bar.

His kiss was demanding, but she felt nothing but excitement. He certainly seemed to want this as much as she did and there was no reason to stop.

When they finally parted for breath, they both spoke at once.

“Jemma --”

“Do you want to go upstairs?”

He stared at her for a few seconds, long enough for her to bite her lip and wonder if he’d been toying with her. But then he pulled out his wallet, leaving enough bills to cover their drinks as well as a generous tip for the bartender. She wasn’t sure why, but that fact stood out to her through the haze of desire. He was a good man, no matter what other ideas she might have gotten just from looking at him.

Hunter took her hand and helped her down from the barstool before leading her to the elevator.

She might be making the biggest mistake of her life, but Jemma was also quite certain she’d be ending the night very satisfied.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma finally gets to find out if Hunter is as good as he thinks he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was a rough day, so here’s a special treat! 
> 
> Extra thanks to @agentofship for catching all my extra words. I don’t know what I’d do without her <3

_JSimms89: I was wrong. I got my hands on a galley. This is my new favorite book!_

_Sexygurl: Jenna Simon is probably her most relatable character yet. I mean, who could resist Logan Archer??? That man has magic hands *fans self*_

The elevator doors slid closed and Hunter’s finger hovered over the elevator buttons. 

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” Jemma answered quickly, not waiting for her brain to catch up. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to feel. But even in the heat of the moment she knew she wanted to be able to slip out if she needed to. “Wait. Do you have condoms?”

“Yeah.”

“Yours,” she said again, this time with an emphatic nod.

Hunter punched at the button and then pulled her against him. She felt practically giddy at the feeling of having him so close, the warmth of his body against her. She slid her hands up his arms, feeling the strength of the muscles under his shirt. Kissing the exposed skin on his neck, she made a show of taking her time until he captured her lips with a growl.

She had really underestimated him. She supposed she should have known better than to judge a book by its cover. Or, in his case, she really should have paid more attention to the book cover. It had all been there right in front of her.

Jemma tasted the sweetness of the wine on his lips, but underneath was a firm insistence that made her want to surrender completely. He dropped his hands to her hips and a shiver of want went through her. 

Hunter’s thumb rubbed over her hip bone and she involuntarily thrust her hips against him, pushing him against the wall of the elevator. Heat shot through her, her clit pulsing as she felt his erection hard against her. 

She tried to calm the thoughts running through her mind. This was Hunter. Daisy approved of him — had probably planned all this somehow. And she’d read his books, so in some sense she knew his mind. His shockingly dirty mind. If he’d even done half the things in his books...well, she couldn’t even imagine how that would feel. She’d had adequate sexual encounters, but hadn’t ever had a partner willing to experiment. Hunter was different. 

His hand moved over her arse as he pressed his tongue into her mouth. She rocked against him, encouraging his movements. What she wanted felt just beyond her grasp. She needed more, but it wasn’t going to happen in the elevator. She wasn’t ready to be quite that adventurous yet.

Jemma pulled her lips away from Hunter’s, turning her head to make sure he’d actually pressed the button. They should have reached whatever floor his room was on already, and getting trapped in the elevator wasn’t something she had planned for today, though she didn’t doubt they could find a way to keep themselves occupied. 

But then the elevator dinged and they sprang apart. Jemma tucked her hair behind her ear, nearly letting out a whimper as he licked his lips and let his gaze move lazily over her body. Her nipples, already hardened peaks, ached for his touch — his hands, his mouth. Just thinking about it made her squeeze her thighs together. They were almost alone. She could do this. The last thing she wanted was for one of her readers or someone in the publishing business to see her nearly shagging Hunter in the elevator or the hallway.

“C’mon.” He tugged her out of the elevator, siding his room key out of his pocket and swiping it at the first door to the left of the elevator. His grip on her hand was the only thing that felt real. The rest of it — the hotel, the hallway, the slightly institutional carpet — had a dreamlike quality that she couldn’t be bothered to focus on.

Jemma stepped over the threshold and the door clicked closed behind her. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for something to focus on other than the ache between her thighs. 

“Is this the penthouse?”

The large floor-to-ceiling windows were a clear giveaway, the bright lights of the city glowing against the night sky. She walked towards the windows, passing couches and what looked to be a fully stocked bar.

“Guess my publisher wanted to make sure his best author had the best room in the house.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes. “I hardly think —“ Her words were cut off by a quick kiss.

“I’m just teasing. There was some sort of mixup and this was the only room available. But you’re awfully tightly wound, aren’t you?” His voice became deeper, with a rougher edge to it that practically made her dizzy. “I’d be happy to help you relax.”

Even though his words were expected and maybe even a little cheesy, she felt herself nodding. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“Do you trust me?”

She gave him a look, not even entirely sure what she meant by it, but he seemed to understand. “I’ve just had this idea in my head since I saw you at the bar...and I wanted to make sure you believed me about all the orgasms.”

She wanted to agree. All of the orgasms was definitely something she wanted. She thought back to his original question. Did she trust him? Maybe she shouldn’t. She didn’t know him that well. But it wasn’t like he was a stranger. She could trust him with her body. And that’s all he’d been asking. 

“Yes,” she finally said, noticing how intently he was looking at her, but making no move to touch. 

“Face the window. Hands on the glass. And not a word.” The expression on his face held a bit of a challenge, but mostly she thought she saw desire. 

Jemma bit her lip as she complied. She’d never been much for playing games, but something in his voice made her want to listen. 

She turned to the window, knowing that the flare of her skirt accentuated her curves, and raised her arms so her hands were on the window in front of her. She heard him moving, but didn’t turn her head. Another frisson of desire raced through her, like every nerve ending was tingling in anticipation of his touch.

Hunter’s hand touched her shoulder, just a gentle caress, before sliding around to cup her breast through her clothes. He was touching her so carefully and through entirely too many layers, that she arched into his touch to encourage him.

“Patience, Jemma.”

If he’d thought that murmuring her name into her ear was going to help calm her down, he couldn’t have been more mistaken. But then he dropped a line of kisses down her neck as he quickly unbuttoned her blouse and tugged down the cups of her bra, and all she could do was gasp.

“Beautiful.”

Her faint reflection in the glass showed a woman she hardly recognized, her eyes half closed and her breasts bare, nipples begging for Hunter’s touch while his mouth moved over her neck leaving wet kisses mixed with sharper bites at her skin. But then he moved his hands to her breasts and her eyes fell closed. His hands were warm and strong as he circled her nipples with his fingers before pinching. Pain and pleasure mixed, sending her need even higher. 

Jemma let out a moan and Hunter took his hands off her. 

“Nuh-uh. If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll stop. This is your only warning.”

“No,” she breathed out. “Don’t stop.”

After another few seconds his hands cupped her breasts again, moving his thumb across her nipples, and she barely managed to keep quiet, arching her back and rubbing against the hardness in his trousers. 

She rocked her hips against him, trying to drive him as wild as he was making her feel. She nearly moaned in frustration when he moved back, until she felt his fingers on the zipper of her skirt. 

Jemma leaned forward until her forehead rested against the glass, hoping the building was structurally sound, and let out a little puff of breath against the cool glass. She shivered as a finger traced over her folds before slipping under her knickers. When he brushed her clit with a light touch she tried to turn around, but his hand on her hip kept her still and the other hand delivered three slaps to her bottom, her knickers not doing much to muffle the sound. 

She felt hot. She burned. 

And while she wished her reaction was outrage at being spanked like a naughty child, the pulsing of her clit and the fresh wave of wetness between her thighs told her she’d be lying. 

“Stay still,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot as it tickled the tendrils of hair 

One hand returned to her breasts and the other went back between her legs. She was dangerously close to exploding in a blaze of lust, but she was determined to make a better showing. Was she weak if she really did have as many orgasms as he’d promised? But it didn’t really seem like it was her decision anymore as he thrust two fingers inside her, his palm putting pressure on her clit and his cock grinding against her arse.

Jemma shook with the power of her orgasm as it radiated through her, but she did her best to keep quiet. Somehow the feeling was more powerful in the quiet room, their breathing the only sound. Her inner muscles pulsed as his fingers kept moving until she relaxed against the window, the glass cool against her nipples, both soothing and exciting her. Hunter was the only thing keeping her upright. 

“Hunter…” Her voice was muffled by the glass, but she heard his laugh as he kept teasing her, his lips on her neck probably leaving a mark. “Please, Hunter.”

He moved away slightly and she stayed against the window. Because she wasn’t sure she could move. Not because he’d told her to. She was 97% sure she actually believed herself. 

He tugged off her jacket and blouse before unhooking her bra and finally pulling her knickers down her legs. She obediently lifted her feet so he could remove her knickers and then the only thing she was still wearing was her stockings. 

Hunter turned her in his arms and their lips met in a hungry kiss. She attacked the buttons on his shirt, eager to have him naked and inside her. What it would feel like to have his cock pounding into her completely consumed her thoughts. 

“Bend over the couch.”

She moved on slightly wobbly legs, trying not to seem quite as eager as she felt. Jemma wasn’t sure if he was going to just fuck her or spank her first because she’d spoken again. Did she want him to spank her? There was still a slight tingling where his hand had been and her body reacted to the thought, need for him making her almost dizzy. 

She only worried for a second about how dirty the couch might be before trying to gracefully drape herself over the arm. Hunter stepped up behind her, kicking her legs further apart, and she knew she was completely exposed— the tops of her thighs coated in wetness. Not that he hadn’t just had his fingers inside her. He knew exactly how wet she was. And he knew he was the cause. 

“Beautiful,” Hunter murmured again, before tracing a path down her shoulders and arms all the way to her wrists before grasping her wrists together in the small of her back with one hand. 

She could feel how much stronger he was than her and Jemma tensed her body in expectation of his hand on her arse. She knew she could tell him to stop and he would...but if she was being honest then she could acknowledge that she was enjoying everything they’d done. And she’d probably enjoy anything he wanted to do. She wasn’t squeamish about sex, she just hadn’t met anyone she’d gotten close enough to share her fantasies. But Hunter didn’t even need her to say the words. He just seemed to know. 

But instead of his hand on her arse it was his mouth. He kneeled down behind her and started pressing kisses to where she imagined her skin was red. It certainly felt hot and his tongue traced wet patterns that cooled her burning skin. Her breath hitched as his tongue became bolder, and she wiggled against the couch looking for some way to release the building orgasm. She’d never doubt Hunter again.

But the weave of the fabric was too fine to offer much help and Hunter seemed content to take his time. 

“Hunter, please fuck me,” she managed to choke out as his tongue slipped down between her legs.

She thought he was going to ignore her plea, though she’d felt how hard he was. There was no way he’d be able to hold out for long. Unless —

But her thoughts were interrupted when he finally spoke. “Patience, Jemma. I just want to make sure you’re fully satisfied.”

He was obviously teasing. She could hear the smile in his voice and picture that slightly smug look on his face. But she didn’t care. As long as he didn’t stop touching her. 

Then he released her wrists and tugged her hips up and his mouth was back on her, tongue moving across her folds before pushing into her channel. She couldn’t think. Could hardly breathe. He was holding her captive — though maybe that was a bit much, she’d never write something like that even if she knew he had — with her arms behind her and his body keeping her legs spread for him to do whatever he pleased. And that was apparently to please her. His tongue licked across her, faster, and he moved a hand to her clit. She was already sensitive from the last orgasm and it didn’t take long for her to moan and gasp as smaller ripples of pleasure washed over her.

Determined to do something other than lay there like a ragdoll while Hunter did whatever he wanted to her, she pushed herself up and turned around. Hunter hadn’t moved and he immediately buried his face between her thighs, finding her clit. She reached down and tried to stop him, but it felt so good she just guided him a little to the left and let out a moan that sounded suspiciously like his name that she would probably be ashamed of later. It had been one thing to just feel his hands and mouth on her. But seeing...seeing was so much more. Her head fell back as her hips bucked against his mouth. 

She closed her eyes otherwise she knew she’d be too weak to force the words out. “Hunter...Hunter, stop.”

He lifted his head to look at her and she bit her lip. She didn’t want him to stop.

“You don’t like it?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious I like it.” Jemma reached down to pull him up. “But the next time I come I want you inside me.”

His expression changed at her words and she kissed him before he could say anything. She didn’t want the way he made her feel to get confused with any sort of emotion. She tasted herself on his lips and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, needing to be closer. The fabric of his clothes was rough against her sensitive skin and she ached to be filled. 

“Hunter,” she panted, as their lips parted. “Take me to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter said with a slight drawl before hoisting her up with his hands on her thighs so she had to quickly wrap her legs around his waist. 

The more time they spent together the harder it was to remember why she didn’t like him. As he carried her to the bedroom she gave herself a quick reminder that this was just for tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her night with Hunter, Jemma's writing has never come so easily. But there is one big thing she's trying her hardest not to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I haven't updated this since September. Oops. But Al got me to kudos #8,000 and requested a new chapter, so here we are. I also have the next chapter ready to go and I plan to finish writing the final chapter (fingers crossed) in the next few days.
> 
> Thanks to @agentofship as always for catching my mistakes <3

_JSimms89: I hope I’m wrong about this...but there is a scene in Jemma’s new book that is very similar to Hunter’s. Like not-a-coincidence kind of similar._

_Sexygurl: Haven’t read his book yet and now I’m a little scared to..._

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold onto the thread of the dream that was still playing in her mind. Strong arms wrapped around her thighs, holding her open to his mouth all over her, her head thrown back as she rode him, his voice shouting her name…

His voice. Hunter. That was Hunter’s voice. And no night of sleep in a hotel could give her a dream that good. She opened her eyes, finally noticing the arm flung over her stomach. God, he was beautiful in his sleep, though now that her memories from the night before were coming racing back, she remembered that he was awfully beautiful when he was awake as well. That should certainly fuel her fantasies for a while. And her writing too. She was stuck on a scene in the book she was writing working on, but she thought she had the perfect answer now. If Hunter was going to be so good for her motivation, maybe they should do this more often.

She looked around for her phone, trying not to disturb him, but it was nowhere to be found. Her clothes hadn’t exactly made it into the bedroom. She seemed to remember losing them all somewhere out in the living area, but she didn’t think she could make it out of the bed without waking Hunter -- and she definitely didn’t want that. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to him. Her characters would know what to do. She tried to think of how that sophisticated lawyer in one of her books would have handled this. Was “thanks for last night” too flippant? She couldn’t imagine herself saying something like that, so it was out either way. But what if he expected her to just leave? Slip out before he woke up? That seemed like something people did. But that wasn’t exactly her either. Even though they weren’t in any sort of relationship, it still seemed rude to just leave without saying anything.

When she had nearly driven herself mad trying to figure out what to do, Hunter finally shifted, making the decision for her.

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yes. Of course.” Her voice was low and her mouth felt dry, so she licked her lips. “I’m fine. You?”

He rolled over to face her, his eyes shining in the morning light. Why did he have the face of an angel and the mind of a… Well, his mind was just as dirty as hers apparently if last night was any indication.

“Never better.” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She must look a fright after all that rolling around in the bed last night. She didn’t think she’d ever had such an acrobatic sexual encounter before. “Did you want to grab breakfast?”

Did she want breakfast? She _was_ feeling hungry, but it wasn’t for food. And from the look in his eyes it seemed that he was thinking the same thing. Would it be too naughty of her to give in to temptation? A one-night stand was one thing, but in the morning light did it mean something different if she made the same decision again?

She nibbled on her bottom lip as she thought.

“You can’t just look at me like that.” The words were practically growled and the sound settled low in her stomach. Or lower actually.

It seemed the decision had been made for her, after all. She rolled on top of him letting the sheet fall as she went.

And then a familiar tone sounded from the other room. She ignored it for a second, rolling her hips against him.

“Jemma…” Hunter held her hips still and she frowned at him. “I don’t want you to stop, but is that your phone?”

Her phone. Her alarm.

“Oh, bloody hell.” 

He laughed as she scrambled off him, probably giving him quite an eyeful as she hurried to find her purse. Hunter followed her and when she glanced up, phone in hand, she almost dropped it at the sight of his naked body. He looked like a Greek statue with the morning light casting a golden glow through the room.

“I have an early flight home,” she explained, hunting for her clothes. He helped her gather them, but instead of feeling embarrassed at how awkward this whole situation had become, reliving the previous evening as they found clothing scattered around the room just made her body ache all over, though she studiously ignored the wetness gathering between her thighs. She was probably just being fanciful. Being an author sometimes made one like that. It had just never happened to her before.

“As do I. I wonder if we’re on the same flight.”

“The same flight?” The thought of sitting beside Hunter on the plane ride home was almost more than she could process.

“You know...the airplane.” Hunter shot her a crooked smile as he pulled on his boxers. “The flying machine --”

“I know what an airplane is,” Jemma waved her hand distractedly as she contemplated putting on her clothes from the night before.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before I head to the airport. Want to join me?”

She did. She really did. Her libido was screaming at her to say yes. She always set her alarm for four hours before the flight so she had plenty of time to check out of the hotel, arrive at the airport, and get to her gate two hours before her departure time. But her brain told her this was a mistake. It was best to make a clean break, and jumping him in the shower was not the way to do that.

“I better head down to my room. I have to make sure I have everything before I get checked out.”

“Your loss, love.”

“I know.” For some reason she couldn’t control the words that were coming out of her mouth. His magic sex had broken her. “I mean, I should...get going.”

He waited for her to get dressed and then walked her to the door. It was surprisingly gentlemanly for someone saying goodbye to his one-night stand. But it was nice. Made it easier to pretend there was something more real here.

“Goodbye Jemma.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, and she nearly turned her head to have one last real kiss. But she didn’t. Because she was a strong, independent woman and she would not be lured back into bed with the promise of incredible sex. 

She wouldn’t.

“Goodbye Hunter. I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”

He gave her an odd sort of look, but it was true. She knew for a fact they would be seeing each other at the awards ceremony in a little over a month. And that was if they didn’t end up doing another book signing together before then. The romance world just wasn’t that big. She’d just have to be an adult about it the next time they saw each other and not spend the whole time thinking about how he’d felt inside her or the way his hands had moved over her body, taking her apart little by little until she was putty in his hands.

She slipped out the door and made it to her room without seeing anyone. Taking a shower -- by herself -- helped her clear her mind and by the time she made it to the airport, with plenty of time to spare of course, she had almost convinced herself that the night before hadn’t been anything more than a fling.

* * *

The days after she returned home had been extremely productive from a work standpoint. Her writing was flowing in a way it hadn’t in years. After writing so many books it was a challenge at times to make each of them new and different. Many of her readers had told her they wouldn’t mind reading the same sort of story over and over, as long as the characters were happy and in love by the end, but Jemma saw it as her professional responsibility to add a little something extra to each book. But now...well, now she had plenty of inspiration to keep writing. And she suspected her readers would be very pleasantly surprised with what she’d come up with. And if her hero sounded a little bit like Hunter, well, that was definitely just a coincidence.

Her alarm sounded and she looked at it in surprise. She hadn’t meant to write for quite so long. She was meeting Daisy for dinner in an hour and she still needed to get ready. Making sure all of her work was saved, she logged off her computer and changed out of her writing clothes -- leggings and an oversized shirt -- and into something more appropriate for leaving her apartment.

As she hurried out the door she thought one more time about the words she had added to her document. They fit her story perfectly, but she couldn’t read them without thinking about _that_ night.

And Hunter. 

It was inevitable that they’d see each other again. And no matter how unwise it would be, she had already started thinking of ways to ask him to have sex again. A two-night stand maybe? But even that wouldn’t be enough. Whenever she wasn’t vigilant thoughts of him filled her mind. Even his author photo was a temptation now. The galley on her bedside table was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep. The slightly dog-eared pages were almost certainly a sign of the inferior paper used for advanced copies more than anything else. Not that she’d been reading specific pages each night before bed, thinking about how it would feel if it were her and Hunter and not the characters in his book. 

“Jemma.” Daisy’s voice startled her out of her thoughts, which was a good thing because they were about to get a lot more explicit than was appropriate for out in public. “There you are.”

“Oh. Hi, Daisy. Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re ten minutes early.”

“Then I’m sorry for being early?” Jemma hadn’t quite caught up to the conversation and wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Hunter had her so distracted she couldn’t even have a normal conversation with her best friend. She really needed to do something about that.

“You don’t have to be sorry for being early.” Daisy took her arm and guided her to a table a little out of the way. It was their regular table at her favorite restaurant. Jemma wasn’t entirely convinced they didn’t just always keep it open in case Daisy happened to appear at dinnertime. “It’s just that you are usually 15 minutes early. I was starting to worry.”

They both laughed and Jemma relaxed a little. Daisy teasing her was normal. Normal was good.

“I just got distracted writing. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Daisy’s smile got wider and she waggled her eyebrows. “Does that mean you want me to take a look at the sex scenes?” 

“Oh, ah, no...I think I’ve got it this time.” Jemma willed herself not to blush since she couldn’t stop thinking about exactly how she’d gotten it.

“You sure?” Daisy gave her a look that would have cowed Jemma a little, if not for the fact that they’d been best friends for more than a decade. “Because I don’t mind. I mean, I think Daniel was mostly joking about that scene in your last book.”

“No. No, it’s not that.” Jemma waved her hand as the waiter brought their drinks without them even ordering. “I think I’ve got it. Really.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. I think this will actually be finished well ahead of schedule, so I’ll have plenty of time to edit before my deadline.”

“Well, if you don’t need my help with your book, then tell me about the book signing. A night in a hotel. A whole city full of single men. Please tell me you had a one-night stand.”

Jemma choked on her drink, wondering what Daisy might have heard. Would Hunter somehow have told her what had happened between them?

Daisy’s eyes went wide. “Are you alright Jemma?”

Reaching for her water, Jemma held up a finger as her coughing subsided. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

“So does this mean there was someone? Because you know I wouldn’t judge you at all, and I’d love to live vicariously through your bad girl shenanigans.”

“Daisy!”

“Oh, c’mon Jemma. I think we know there’s a reason why romance novels are so popular...and it isn’t because women don’t have fantasies.”

This was getting much too close to the point, and Daisy could be a bit relentless. But maybe she could change the subject before things got too far.

“Do _you_ have a fantasy about having a one-night stand?” 

“Pffft. Not me. I’m happily married. But there’s nothing wrong if you did.”

Jemma closed her eyes and took a breath.

“Okay. Yes, I did.” Her words were almost drowned out by Daisy’s squeal. “But it was just a one-time thing. Like you said, a night in a hotel with a city full of single men.”

“Right. And it didn’t mean anything?”

“How could it? I don’t even know him.” Jemma swallowed. “And I’d rather not say anything more about it.”

“Fine, fine, fine...I’ll just make do with your new book I guess. When did you say it would be ready to look at?”

From there the conversation drifted back to business and Jemma felt on much firmer footing. It was only after she got back to her apartment, the slight buzz from the alcohol making it easier to think about Hunter, that she really tried to understand her feelings. She’d been so caught up in explaining it away -- to herself, to Daisy -- that she hadn’t considered that maybe she didn’t want to explain it away. 

She didn’t actually dislike his writing, even though she didn’t enjoy the historical inaccuracies. But having spent the evening with him, she wasn’t entirely sure that was his fault. He wrote what sold. Authors had to do that sometimes. His books had a lot of alpha male energy and helpless damsels in distress. She’d always said she disliked that in romance, that women had to have agency to make their own choices and didn’t need a man to rescue them. Sex and romance should be between two equal partners. But her most recent dreams clearly showed that was a lie. There was a part of her that was attracted to that fantasy -- in her dreams even if she still wasn’t sure about real life. Hunter gave people that fantasy. He’d given _her_ that fantasy. 

And, yes, if she was given the opportunity she’d be more adventurous in future sexual encounters, now that she knew what was possible. Hunter had helped her see that at least. Some things weren’t just fantasy. Even if it wasn’t with him, she was certain she could find someone who would be willing to indulge some of her desires. It might even make her writing better. It certainly seemed that Hunter had been right about that. It was much easier to write when she could picture everything clearly in her head, though Hunter was the clearest part of her daydreams at this point.

But that was something to think about another day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma's life is turned upside down when she is accused of plagiarism. Luckily she knows exactly who to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished the last chapter of this so I thought I'd post this one now!
> 
> Thanks to @agentofship for all of her encouragement on this one <3

_Sexygurl: I can’t believe she did something like this. I guess you never can tell about people._

_Sexgod69: Hold on. I think we should wait until she’s had a chance to defend herself._

_RomanceReadr: Too late. I just read they are pulling her book._

Jemma hung up the phone and counted to three, making sure the call was actually disconnected, before letting out a small shriek of excitement. Her book had not only been finished early, but it had sped through the editing process and had gone to print early with her largest first run ever. This was it. This was the momentum she had been looking for ever since she started writing. Daniel was extremely pleased with her if their conversation was any indication. For the first time she was writing at the same pace as...Hunter. She hadn’t understood how he could write so quickly and end up with something that was still quality. Though quality clearly meant something different to him than it did to her. She, at least, took the time to thoroughly research what her characters’ lives would be like and any special topics she wasn’t familiar with that would make the book more believable. But Hunter, well apparently Hunter spent his time researching other things.

That put a damper on her mood. He was probably out _researching_ with someone else right now. Maybe she should have made more of an effort. She could have called him. It wasn’t like he was a hermit. She didn’t think he was anyway. Surely Daisy or Daniel knew how to get into contact with him. She shook her head to chase the thoughts away. It was ridiculous to still be stuck back on that night, but he wasn’t anything like she’d made him out to be. He was sweet, considerate...and he really was hot.

She _should_ get started on her next project, but she deserved some time off. Maybe she’d go for a walk. Take in some of the city while she thought about her next book. The more she understood her characters, the easier the writing would be. But as had been happening ever since that night, her walk just turned into a series of memories of Hunter -- as well as some more creative ideas that she wanted to try. By the time she returned to her apartment, she was nothing but a bundle of frustration. She debated trying to alleviate some of that frustration, but past experience had told her it wouldn’t do much good, so she returned to her desk more determined than ever to start her next book. It certainly wasn’t going to write itself.

Her next book was going to be completely different from anything she’d ever written before. A little more lighthearted perhaps, but it was also going to be holiday-themed, and that called for something a bit different. She’d been nervous when she’d pitched it -- she’d never written a historical romance after all -- but Daisy had loved the idea and sold Daniel on it as well. She was pretty sure it had been her record-setting pace on the last book that had made all the difference. But either way, that meant she was now turning her research to Regency England and all of the social customs that went along with it. She planned on making it more cozy and less bodice-ripper, she wouldn’t want to put herself into direct competition with Hunter, after all. Maybe just close enough that he’d think about her from time to time.

Jemma had just settled down with a cup of tea and a fresh document when her email chimed. She thought she’d closed that. Clicking over into the application, she moved the cursor to the X in the corner before pausing. Notifications from the romance discussion forum were blowing up. She debated for a second before clicking through. It wasn’t normally a very well-trafficked forum, though with her new book out she anticipated a little more interest than normal. Hopefully there would be some good feedback.

Her phone pinged with a new text message — it was probably just Daisy with an update — and she ignored it to click through to the forum.

As her eyes scanned the words the smile dropped from her face. She didn’t know what was happening, but the one thing she did know was that her life as she knew it was over.

* * *

Jemma opened the door and Daisy pulled her into a hug without a word, more grateful than ever that her best friend was part of the industry.

“Everything is going to be alright, babe.” Daisy’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that terrified Jemma a little bit. “We’ll figure this out. I know you didn’t do it.”

“I would never!”

“I know.” Daisy held up a bag. “I picked up some ice cream so we can cheer you up while we talk it through.”

“But, Daisy, plagiarism.” Jemma whispered the word, not even wanting to say it out loud. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter if she’d done it or not. What mattered was that it was now all over the internet that she’d copied Hunter’s book. A very specific part of Hunter’s latest book. 

“Look.” Daisy put her hands on her shoulders to steady her and then pushed her backwards into the apartment so she could close the door and then directed both of them to the sofa to sit, pints of ice cream and plastic spoons situated between them on the coffee table. “If there is one person in this world I know for a fact would never plagiarize, it’s Dr. Jemma Simmons.”

Jemma snorted. That was a cold sort of comfort when her career was in tatters. It was probably time to dust off her resume and try to get back into research, though the scientific community didn’t look at plagiarism favorably either. But at least Daisy believed her.

“For starters, you’d never be so dumb to copy from someone else so obviously. You’d be smart about it.”

Jemma giggled for a second before it turned into a sort of hiccup.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

But Daisy just handed her a spoon and opened up the ice cream.

“So...I have to ask,” Daisy said, pausing to take a bite of ice cream. “How _did_ you and Hunter write almost exactly the same sex scene? It was super hot by the way.”

Jemma bit her lip, not sure how to answer. She’d thought her night with Hunter would remain her dirty little secret. Something she’d never breathe a word of to anyone. 

“You remember that guy I told you about?”

“The one you didn’t want to talk about? The one-night stand?” Daisy had perked up beside her and Jemma felt a wave of embarrassment. Not that she’d spent the night with Hunter, of course, but that it now seemed like some sort of betrayal. “No! It wasn’t —“

“It was Hunter.”

“And, you two...what? Outlined a scene together?” Jemma’s eyes dropped closed and she shook her head. “Wait, that’s what you did?”

Jemma waited for Daisy to say something more, but instead there was laughter. 

“What’s so funny? I’ve just ruined my life by shagging Hunter and you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you...not exactly anyway. I mean, if that’s what happened — and we have two corroborating descriptions of the night — then you should be dating him, not filing him away as a one-night stand. I thought that character sounded familiar and if I’d thought, well —“

“Daisy! I’m not sure how this is helping.”

“Well, it’s obvious you didn’t copy his book. You were both there.”

“Of course we were. But it isn’t like you can just release a statement telling the world I had a one-night stand with Hunter where we had extremely creative and satisfying sex and expect that to clear up this whole plagiarism misunderstanding.”

“Extremely creative and satisfying?” Daisy said in the worst accent Jemma had even heard. 

She tried to throw a pillow in response, but she ended up giving Daisy a hug instead. It was good to have a friend. Especially a friend who brought ice cream.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning her mind was much clearer. This wasn’t the end of the world, especially since she hadn’t done anything wrong. All she needed to do was go explain everything to Daniel and they’d make a plan. 

She spent the morning tidying up her apartment, deciding on just the right way to word her email. Daisy had certainly told Daniel the pertinent parts of their conversation so she wouldn’t have to get into any details, but it still wasn’t a conversation she was eager to have. 

Once she’d run out of ways to procrastinate, Jemma booted up her laptop. But the ringing of her phone saved her from having to write the email. 

It wasn’t a number she recognized, but she answered it anyway. It wouldn’t be much of a way to procrastinate if she let it go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Jemma. It’s Hunter.” His voice was exactly as she remembered, even through the speaker on the phone, and it temporarily turned her brain to mush. “Jemma? Are you there?”

“What? Yes, of course.” She paused for a second, thinking about why he could possibly be calling her. If he’d had her number this whole time and had only thought to call her now that was something she didn’t want to think about too hard. “How did you get my number?”

“From Daniel. He doesn’t want there to be any trouble between his authors.”

“We aren’t having any trouble,” she practically huffed. “I’m getting blamed for something I didn’t do.”

Hunter laughed, his voice warm over the phone and it sent a little wave of longing through her. “We both know whose idea it was, love.”

“I assume you mean me,” she shot back. Maybe some of the ideas had been his, but she’d been an equal participant.

“Oh, come on Jemma.” It was really unfair how it sounded when he said her name.

“It isn’t like either one of us invented it. Sex is pretty universal.” But even as she said the words, she had a sinking feeling. He _had_ told her he did his research before writing his scenes. And at the very least she should have told him she was planning on using their night together as inspiration for her own writing -- though he should have done the same. It was professional courtesy at the very least.

“I don’t know. I’d like to think it was kind of special.” She swallowed at his words, the apartment suddenly too warm for her liking. “Why don’t you come over and we can discuss it in person.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t know how that would look. I should speak to Daniel first.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll just text you my address and then you can decide.”

“Alright.”

They said their goodbyes -- warm and at least a little flirty from Hunter and rushed and more than a little confused from her. When a new message appeared a few seconds after she’d hung up, she didn’t even have to check to know it was Hunter’s address. She didn’t bother looking at it because there was no way she’d ever need it. It was really better to not even know how close he might be. He was entirely too distracting, and if she went to his place she couldn’t trust herself to just go there to talk. So she’d avoid the issue entirely.

Nodding to herself she turned back to her computer, ready to send that email, when she was interrupted yet again. This time it was a number she did recognize.

“Hello, Daniel. I’m so glad you called. I --”

“Jemma. I’m sorry, but I have some bad news. We are pulling your book.”

For a few beats Jemma couldn’t even speak she was so upset.

“But...but why? I didn’t do anything wrong. Surely Daisy told you.”

“She did. And as a friend this isn’t something I want to do. But as your publisher, this is just how it works. Hunter’s book was published first, so yours is the one that is getting scrapped. You can rewrite it if you’d like --

“No, no, that’s fine.”

“Jemma...this isn’t the end for you. Your contract is still in place and I’m certain this will all blow over and your readers will be ready and waiting for your next book.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about being branded as a plagiarist by my publisher.”

Jemma swallowed the rest of her words and hung up the phone without a proper goodbye. Daniel would understand. And if he didn’t, maybe it was for the best. Maybe writing wasn’t for her anymore.

But the more she sat and thought, the more her sadness and disappointment turned to anger. And there was only one person to blame for everything that had happened.

Lance Hunter.

* * *

Jemma’s righteous anger took her a dozen blocks from her own apartment to a brick apartment building that looked like so many others in the city. His apartment was 4C and she decided to take the stairs to give herself a few more minutes to think. Deep, calming breaths were the key to keeping her temper under control and being able to say all the things she needed to say. But when she reached his door, hand poised to knock, all of her thoughts fled her mind. She let her hand fall against the door and hoped he wasn’t home.

But the door swung open almost before she could pull her hand back.

“I was hoping you’d come.” There was something in his tone that lit a fire inside her -- and this time it had nothing to do with anger.

“Make me,” she challenged, before pressing her lips to his and kicking the door closed behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma's plagiarism problem is resolved, and she has to decide what Hunter means to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I love these two so much in this verse. I'm planning on filling a few kink bingo squares in this verse, so we won't be leaving them just yet :)
> 
> Thanks to @agentofship for making all my words better <3

_RomanceReadr: I have a theory about Jemma and Hunter’s new books. Maybe they are so similar because they’re together._

_Sexgod69: like together, together??_

_RomanceReadr: Maybe? That would explain why those scenes are so similar. I mean, if that was something they did together it would have been pretty memorable._

_Sexgod69: seems reasonable...we still on for tonight?_

_RomanceReadr: Yes!_

As soon as the door closed, Jemma found herself against it, Hunter’s body holding her in place as his tongue pushed into her mouth. This was much better than whatever she thought she’d come here for. And really, a few orgasms should make her feel much better about having to change her name and start over.

His hands moved down her body and she shifted, trying to work on the buttons on his shirt...or his jeans. Or even her blouse. Anything that would put his skin directly against hers.

“Mmmpf. Wait Jemma.” Hunter pulled away from her and she let out a little whimper, squeezing his arse so he couldn’t move too far from her. “What are we doing?”

“Having sex.” That much seemed obvious at least. She thought he would have known that. “Right here is fine.”

Jemma reached for his jeans again, and squeaked in surprise when his fingers wrapped around her wrists. Well, if he wanted to take control, that was fine. She knew from experience how pleasurable that could be.

“I’m not saying no to sex,” he gave her a smile that was full of promises she desperately wanted him to keep. There was no reason anymore to pretend that there was a competition between them. He’d won fair and square. “But I want to talk first.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

He took her hand and led her towards the sofa. If she’d taken the time to imagine what his flat would look like, it wouldn’t have been quite like this. This wasn’t some sort of bachelor pad with pizza boxes on the floor and a ratty recliner in front of the telly. There was plenty of natural light -- just the kind of light she preferred for writing -- and his desk was set up across from the big windows. It was all very tasteful, and for a few seconds she wondered if his ex had something to do with that.

“What’s that look for?”

She’d been woolgathering again and hadn’t even noticed Hunter staring at her.

“Oh...nothing. Just thinking about how lovely your flat is.”

He glanced around before focusing his gaze on her once again and she almost squirmed under the attention before reminding herself she was in control of the situation.

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, but what’s --”

“Daniel called to tell me they’re pulling my book.”

“I’m s--”

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It isn’t your fault.”

“But it is, love.” A smile spread over his face and it was almost enough to make her laugh. 

“I suppose you’re right. It really _is_ your fault.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Do? I don’t know what else I can do.” She sighed, but there was no point traveling the same ground she’d already covered by herself. “It might be time to stop writing. I can go back to science. That was my first love after all.”

He studied her, and she felt heat rise the longer he looked at her. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” He nodded. “Your books are great. Your fans won’t care about this. They love you.”

She shook her head miserably, not sure what difference his words made.

“And I’m sure at least some of them have figured out the truth.”

“Oh, god. I hope not.”

“You don’t want anyone to know?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said quickly before he got the wrong idea. “I’m not...ashamed of what we did. It’s just that between what I wrote and what you wrote, they’d know exactly what we did.”

“It was good though.”

“It was more than good.” A few beats of silence passed between them, and Jemma bit her lip, knowing her mind was wandering further than it should. “And that’s why I’m here. There doesn’t need to be any silly competition between us anymore.”

“We were competing?”

“Of course we were, Hunter.” Jemma rolled her eyes at him. “We were SHIELD’s two best selling authors.”

“We still are.”

“For now, I suppose. But without a new book you’ll quickly outpace me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan any of this.”

“I don’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”

“But Daniel shouldn’t have just pulled your book.”

She hadn’t meant to upset Hunter, but seeing his anger flare on her account just made him all the more attractive. She could fight her own battles, but the fact that he cared was all that mattered right now. Jemma had enough of talking, it wasn’t going to change anything having to do with her book. But she could change something else. He’d been happy to see her. He cared about her. And she wanted him to take control of her body again. Like he’d done that night.

She leaned closer to him, and this time when their lips met he didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed her cheek before sliding into her hair and she let her head fall back when he tugged, baring her neck to his lips. He moved slowly, giving her time to stop him. But she had no intention of stopping. She wanted this more than she’d ever wanted anything else in her life.

Hunter kissed a path from behind her ear down to her collarbone, and the little swipes of his tongue as he tasted her skin lit a fire inside her. Except that wasn’t quite right. The fire had never gone out; it had just been banked a little.

She tried to move closer to him, resting her hands on his shoulders before moving them down his chest, but honestly sitting side by side on the sofa would never work for what she wanted. After shifting as best she could and still not finding the right position, she was grateful when Hunter just hauled her into his lap.

“Much better,” she murmured, kissing him on the lips again as she worked at the buttons on his shirt. 

As soon as she had his shirt open she turned her attention to his uncovered skin. She hadn’t really had a chance to explore him the way she wanted to the last time. She traced his muscles with her fingers while she moved her mouth over him, smiling in delight when his arms tightened around her. She repeated the movement, swiping her tongue across his nipple, just to test the reaction. A good scientist always made sure to test their hypothesis after all.

“Jemma.” The way he said her name sent goosebumps racing across her body, but when he pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it behind the couch she nearly laughed. She’d never met anyone who confused her so much, sending her from anger to bliss so quickly.

Hunter reached for her again, but before he could pull her close -- and most likely get her out of the rest of her clothing -- she slid off his lap and onto the floor between his knees.

“No...I haven’t finished tasting you yet.” 

His eyes were wide and slightly glazed, so she let him contemplate her words for a bit while she continued kissing across his ribs and down his stomach, enjoying the feel of his muscles reacting to her touch. By the time she reached the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper, she was certain she’d never been so wet in her entire life. Everything with Hunter was just better. Even fooling around on the sofa like teenagers was more satisfying than anything her last few boyfriends had managed.

Jemma licked her lips as her hand closed around his cock and her eyes slid shut. She wanted to feel him inside her again, to have his body over her while he --

Somehow they ended up on the floor and Hunter maneuvered them so she was on top. She quickly shimmied out of her jeans and knickers and settled back on top of him, his cock trapped between them as she leaned down to kiss him.

“Need you,” she panted when she pulled back to breathe. “Do you have a --”

“Yeah. That little drawer on the coffee table.”

He pointed at a small drawer beside her and she slid it open to find a box of condoms. She smiled, glad he was so prepared. She wasn’t sure she’d make it all the way to his bedroom.

She ripped the package open and scooted back just far enough to unroll it on him.

His only response was to grasp her hips and drag her over his length so he was right at her entrance. They were both clearly more than ready and as much as she had enjoyed the teasing of their first time together, this somehow felt even more right.

Jemma pushed up on her knees and shifted just enough for him to push inside her. She couldn't hold in the moan as he gripped her hips to pull her down on him. Heat coiled inside her and her heart raced as her knees bumped against the carpet. She followed his punishing pace, searching his face for...something. His lips were moving without sound and his eyes followed her movements, drifting down her body before locking on her face again. Staring into his eyes felt strangely intimate, almost at odds with what they were doing -- which felt a lot like a quick shag on the floor. But either way, every time their bodies moved together another spark stoked the flames burning inside her, driving her closer and closer to the release she desperately needed.

And then he stopped, holding her still with his prick buried deep inside her. She tried to keep moving, but couldn’t.

“Stay.” That was all he said, apparently waiting for her to say something.

“I’m not leaving,” she assured him, rotating her hips to at least get a little friction. He was back to driving her mad it seemed.

“I meant after,” he added with a little groan.

“I won’t leave...after.” It was easy to promise, especially since she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to spend the rest of the day in his arms -- in or out of bed. And after that, well, then she’d really have to figure out what to do next. Staying with Hunter for the foreseeable future probably wasn’t a reasonable option.

But it didn’t matter now because he let her hips go and pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing circles that were just a little bit too slow to be exactly what she needed. She moved faster, biting her lip to keep herself from saying something she’d regret. This wasn’t about regrets.

And then he rubbed her clit faster and brought his other hand back to her waist. Jemma kept moving, even as he thrust against her, hard and fast, and bliss exploded through her. She kept moving as her legs trembled and her thighs burned. Until he yelled her name and pulled her down on him one last time. Hunter pulled her closer and she relaxed against him, surprised that he wanted to cuddle on the floor beside his couch, but not objecting one little bit.

* * *

For the second time, Jemma woke up in bed with Hunter, unsure of what to do next. This time there was no plane to catch, and really nowhere for her to be. So there were no excuses. Maybe he’d suggest the shower again and this time she could accept. Having Hunter scrub her back -- and other things -- sounded like a great way to start the morning.

A familiar tone sounded and she realized it was her phone. Again. At least this time her clothes were by the bed. The first time might have been pent up lust, but the second time they’d had sex, before falling asleep together, had been very intentional.

She reached over to grab her phone and saw entirely too many missed calls and messages from Daisy. Hopefully nothing bad had happened while she’d been...distracted.

Daisy: Have you seen this??

Daisy: Jemma, pick up your phone.

Daisy: Are you alright?? Did something happen??

Jemma slipped out of bed as carefully as she could, though Hunter seemed to still be very much asleep, and grabbed his shirt from the floor. Pulling it on she made her way to the kitchen where there was a bit more privacy before trying to figure out what Daisy wanted.

She’d just clicked on the link Daisy had sent when the phone rang again.

“Hello Daisy. I’m so sorry I didn’t answer. I was busy.”

“Jemma! Thank goodness you’re alright. You are alright aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m alright. Now what is it that couldn’t wait?” Normally she’d assume an urgent call from Daisy had something to do with her book. But with that the way it was it might be something else.

“It’s Hunter.” 

For a second Jemma was confused. There was nothing wrong with Hunter. She’d just left him in bed not more than three minutes ago.

“What about Hunter?” she asked cautiously. There was no way Daisy could know she was in Hunter’s flat, could she?

“He sent Daniel a message yesterday. Told him he’d do rewrites on his book and to pull it instead of yours.”

A sound caught Jemma’s attention and she looked up to see Hunter standing there. Naked. Did the man have no modesty at all? Not that he really needed to.

“I...I have to go. I’ll call you later Daisy.”

She didn’t wait for Daisy’s reply before ending the call. Her lips were dry and a thousand thoughts raced through her head.

“Why?” As far as questions went it wasn’t a very good one, but it was the only one that she could come up with.

Hunter shrugged like it was no big deal. “It wasn’t fair.”

“But...but, _your_ book.”

“I can write another one.”

“Aren’t you worried about what people will think?”

Hunter held up his phone. “Right now the gossip all over the forums is that we slept together and that’s why those scenes were so similar.”

“And you basically just confirmed it.” Jemma couldn’t believe how blasé he was being about all of this.

“Yeah. I’m not going to deny the fact that I’ve given the most incredible woman I’ve ever met the orgasms that inspired her best sex scene ever. I’m not an idiot you know.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

While they talked he walked closer to her until they were practically touching.

“And I thought maybe without the accusations and competition between us you’d give me a chance.”

“A chance? A chance at what?” He was distractingly close now, his fingers toying with the buttons she’d hastily done up.

“At more.”

“More?” She swallowed.

“You. Me.” He pointed between them. “If I wasn’t being clear, I really like you.”

“Oh.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“I’d hoped maybe. But I didn’t --” He cut her off with a kiss, leaving her breathless. “The only thing I’m not sure about is how we’re going to be together without one of us getting accused of copying.”

“Well,” he said slowly, undoing the top button. “If you keep being so good in bed, then it’s going to end up in my books.”

He undid two more buttons and her knees went a little weak. Luckily the table was right beside her.

“I--I hope it’s always this good.”

“Maybe we could try writing together? Steamy romance with a strong heroine. Maybe she can reform him. So he’s not so much of a scoundrel.”

Jemma smiled, undoing the last button herself before shrugging out of his shirt.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she likes him that way.”

The look Hunter gave her before pressing a far less chaste kiss to her lips made her hope he kept condoms somewhere in his kitchen as well.

* * *

_Two Years Later_

The night of the Sexy Star Romance awards was always a particular favorite of Jemma’s. The first year they’d both been nominated, she’d won the award of course, but it had also been the night she’d told Hunter she loved him. Last year, Hunter had taken home the award, but the ring he’d put on her finger had more than made up for any disappointment she’d felt -- as had the way he’d tied her to the bed and fucked her until she’d screamed his name.

But this year -- professional competitive spirit firmly in place -- would be the tie-breaker, and they had a bet going on who would win. Jemma was almost certain it would be her, which was lucky because there was something she very much wanted to try with Hunter. A bit of a test of his stamina. Though she also knew what Hunter had in mind if he won. He’d kept the notes for his latest book on his desk and she couldn’t help but look. She wasn’t always great at being submissive, but she’d do it for Hunter. It was always well worth it for the way he took her apart.

“Jemma.” A hand brushed over her back and she turned to Hunter. “You can’t bite your lip like that, love. We’re still out in public. Though I guess we could slip off to the loo or something.”

Hunter pretended to look around and she laughed.

“We have to wait until after the winner is announced at least,” she said. Then lowering her voice, she added, “I have some plans for you.”

“And for the last award of the evening. The Sexy Star Romance author of the year is...Antoine Triplett.”

After the applause died down and Trip started his acceptance speech, she looked over at Hunter. “Are you disappointed?”

“Disappointed?” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.”Not at all. I know who the real winner here is.”

“Yeah?” She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have found him. He was a part of her she hadn’t even known was missing.

“Yeah. It’s clearly you. You get to come home with me.”

“I _get_ to?”

“Uh-huh.” He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her ear before whispering, “I have plans for you tonight. I’m going to make you scream.”

“That does sound tempting...but you didn’t win the award.”

He pouted for a second.

“How about we flip a coin then?” Jemma asked. “Do you want head or tail?”

“God, yes. Let’s go home.”

Jemma smiled, knowing she’d won this round. But they still had so much more of their story to write, and she couldn’t wait. “Yes, let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr @Libbyweasley


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